The Grey Hound of Rust Belt
The sky over Oakhaven was not a sky; it was a ceiling of pressed lead, heavy and suffocating. The town had once been the heartbeat of the American steel industry, but the mills had gone silent decades ago, leaving behind a landscape of skeletal factories and rows of houses that seemed to be leaning into each other for support. Hank lived in one of those houses, a place where the wallpaper...
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